


(Yes there’s a chance that) I've fallen quite hard over you

by TheSecretFangirl



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Well not really, and slightly funny, but i would like to believe that what i've written is maybe cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecretFangirl/pseuds/TheSecretFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras walks into the glass walls of a coffee shop. Grantaire just happens to be there, and helps him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Yes there’s a chance that) I've fallen quite hard over you

**Author's Note:**

> Title form Landon Pigg's song [Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erywPdFfORE).  
> Beta'ed by the lovely [Rachael](http://rachaelkelleher.tumblr.com/).

“Two medium iced lattes please, one with a double espresso shot and another with whipped cream,” Enjolras said to the man behind the cash desk.

“Takeaway or–”

“Takeaway,” Enjolras replied curtly.

“Alright, boss,” the barista said with a mock salute and entered his order into the cash register. “That will be $8.50”.

Enjolras nodded, and then pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his skinny black jeans.

He handed the cashier a $20 note, and said, “You can keep the change.”

When he saw the mousy haired cashier look flustered at this, he continued “Um, ah, as you know tips.”

“Marius,” Enjolras added with a nod when he noticed the nametag on the cashier.

“Right.”

Enjolras proceeded to the other line for collecting his coffee. He had a sudden realization that he might have been mildly rude with the barista; he had a tendency to gaze intensely at people and make them uncomfortable. He would comprehend his awkwardness only when it was too late to apologize. Combeferre would often poke him with his elbow whenever Enjolras’ bitch face got too intense, but he wasn’t around right now.

Besides, Enjolras was so very distracted with thoughts of his latest awareness rally. Things were going according to plan. His activist group had managed to get enough sponsors, and their social media campaign to attract people was pretty successful. He had even managed to get a few politicians to agree to attend the march and give statements. But there was more work yet to be done - making posters; arranging refreshments; getting merch; and negotiating with police for security. The last one was especially daunting for him because the Head of Department, Javert, had a special blacklist on which the only name was ‘Enjolras’.

“Sir, your order is done!” Marius’ voice broke through his musings.

“Thank you.”

He remembered Combeferre’s sharp elbows and forced himself to smile politely at Marius as he collected his coffee.

He added sugar to the one with whipped cream, and then walked purposefully towards the door of the shop. He enjoyed having an air of authority around him, and loved the slightly terrified looks people gave him.

No one had to know that he was slightly scared of Javert. And that he was thinking of ways he could sweet talk the man into him into being, well, less of a pain in the neck, because that was the best you could expect from Javert, when–

_BAM!_

Enjolras found himself knocked down on the floor, and a slurry of ice and coffee on his shirt.

The coffee shop started slightly spinning and he was moderately confused. He had been thinking about Javert but now…

“Oh wow what just happened?” he heard himself say out loud.

At the same time, he heard a husky voice behind him ask, “Oh my God, are you all right?”

Enjolras regained his calm demeanor and quickly put the situation together. He had been so lost in his thoughts, that he had walked straight into the glass front walls of the coffee shop mistaking them for an open door.

He then smelt a faint wisp of whisky, and saw an offered palm drop into his field of vision, which he gladly accepted. He used it as a crutch to stand up, and found himself face to face with concerned walnut eyes and dark curls.

“Yes, I am alright.” He staggered a little.

“Easy there, Apollo,” the voice advised.

Enjolras then registered the mess on the glass walls and floor, and the ruined coffee cups crushed beyond repair.

He turned to Marius, and said “Shit. I am so, so sorry.”

One of the other baristas came out from behind counter with a mop, and started cleaning the mess off the floor.

“It’s okay sir, we will give you a free refill for your drink.”

“No!” Enjolras argued. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I walked straight into the walls. I was simply clumsy; it’s not your fault.”

“Well, sir, you tipped so wonderfully, you deserve a free drink anyway,” Marius piped.

“Uhm, okay, thank you,” Enjolras ran a hand through his golden curls.

The other barista who had just finished cleaning the floor went back behind the counters to prepare him new drinks.

“Please, sir, have a seat.”

“Okay,” Enjolras mumbled, and started walking towards one of the empty tables in the coffee shop.

Except he was met with resistance when he tried to move.

He felt something twist in his hand, and he realized that he was still grasping the hand of the stranger who had helped him up.

He released his grip, and dropped his hand to his side, like it had spontaneously caught fire. He also felt his face heat up to a thousand Fahrenheit.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I was still holding your hand,” Enjolras mumbled.

“It’s okay.” The stranger smiled.

“Oh where are my manners? Combeferre would be ashamed of me. Please, let me buy you a coffee. It’s the least I can do for your help.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Please.”

“If you insist.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“Look, you don’t have to do this. I just saw you fall down, and I did what any other decent human being would do. I can buy my own coffee.”

Enjolras gave him one of his patented looks- the one that screamed _you’ll do what I said, citizen, no questions asked_.

“Fine. Get me an Café Americano,” the stranger huffed, slumping his shoulders.

Enjolras allowed himself the tiniest of smirks, and placed the stranger’s order. He then collected both the coffees and walked towards one of the tables with an air that loudly proclaimed he wanted the stranger to follow him. The stranger obliged.

When they reached the table, Enjolras sat down and offered him a hand to shake.

“Hi, we did this all wrong. I’m Enjolras.”

“Grantaire. Or simply R, for short,” the stranger replied with a smile.

“Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah.” Grantaire leaned back in his chair.

A moment of tense silence settled over the table. Enjolras sipped his coffee, and stared at Grantaire for a moment, taking in his scruffy beard, and tiny button nose. The walnut eyes he had noticed earlier widened as they caught him staring, and he immediately looked away. He usually did not mind being caught when he stared people, but the situation with Grantaire felt different. He did not know why, but something about Grantaire noticing him made him embarrassed. He felt that he should say something, clarify the reason for this awkwardness, but Grantaire beat him to it.

“Are you thinking about Abraham Lincoln? ‘Cause I’m not.”

Enjolras felt his carefully constructed mask fall away, because that remark was totally unexpected.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh you know, just a figure of speech about awkward silences.”

“What?” Enjolras was bewildered.

“You’ve never heard it before?”  

Enjolras’ confused look was answer enough.

“Oh well. See people from my hometown have this thing. Whenever there is an awkward silence, people just say someone’s thinking about Abraham Lincoln. Apparently has something to do with the way he was assassinated. Whatever, Lincoln is overrated.”

“Excuse Me? Lincoln, overrated?” Enjolras was all riled up now. “Okay, he was a member of the Republican Party, and if that’s why you are opposed to him, let me tell you this: things were different back then.”

“Please, tell me more.” The sarcasm in Grantaire’s tone set something off in Enjolras. His rant mode turned itself on, and he spent the next hour debating back and forth with Grantaire about politics, forgetting all thoughts of his upcoming rally preparations.

At the end of the hour, he found a new phone number in his contact list. There was a very angry Combeferre too, because Enjolras was so very late with his coffee order, but he did not mind, because Grantaire was, well, _Grantaire_.

And he would be meeting him again for coffee tomorrow morning.

*

_Nine Years Later_

Combeferre keeps his best man’s speech simple.

“I had imagined Enjolras meeting his soul mate in a thousand ways. Perhaps they would meet at a rally. Or in a shared class. Trust Enjolras to prove me wrong. I had imagined a million ways they would meet, but never had I expected Enjolras to literally fall at his partner’s feet before their first meeting.”

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with the whole idea when I walked into the glass wall of a coffee shop. Unfortunately, there were no cute people to help me up, but I did get a free refill!
> 
> Also, I don't know how common the thinking about Abraham Lincoln thing is. We once had a faculty visit from America, and he said that, and explained it, but I haven't heard it used by anyone else.
> 
> Oh, and I would love it if you tipped me with kudos and comments!


End file.
